In a recently concluded lecture in my college, all the students were asked to describe their most embarrassing moment. My brain went into an overdrive thinking about all the occasions on which I had felt bad about myself. There have been times when I have also been left feeling humiliated, so much so that ''embarrassment'' has ended up being a euphemism for my mortification.
As humans, we often harbor dreams of being perfect in every possible way. And there may have been moments when we have been our most vulnerable selves. Also, we end up chiding ourselves for overlooking all the possible ifs and buts, every time we are left grappling with the undesirable outcome of an action that is based on the I-cannot-not-think-of-anything-better assumption. There are moments when walking around wearing an eyeliner that has smudged takes a toll on oneself. All the questions that occur in one's mind, following the moment of embarrassment, revolve around what the folks around would think of an unintentional lapse that is converted into a mammoth misdoing. The sequence of events that follows the lapse sees a dip in one's overall confidence, resulting in generalising his/her awkwardness. The length of time that these thoughts plays on one's mind is enough to relegate one to the place of a sub-human, who deserves no chance to live. An alternative to this drill is forgiving oneself as conveniently and swiftly as one forgives all else, preventing the fear of failure to loom large over one's blanket of confidence.
The day was hot and busy. The sun was shining brightly over the hour. My car was parked outside a stationery shop. I was inching toward the back door of the spacious stationery outlet to get some printouts. While I was walking , I glanced at my ex-colleague, who I have always held in high- esteem, and is someone who has constantly pushed the envelope with her high standards of professionalism. I greeted her like a long-lost friend. I was quick to conclude that the aura around her was the exact same as I had experienced before. I had managed to take the printouts in under 5 minutes, after having a brief chat with my former colleague. As I made an exit from the shop and started walking, steadily, toward my car, I stumbled upon a big rock that left me flat on the ground. Looking up, from the level of the ground, everything looked chaotic. I managed to get on both my feet within 5 seconds of falling down. In the distance, I could see my former colleague-cum-friend asking, with the help of finger gesticulation, if I was okay. I gave her a sheepish grin and gestured to her that I was totally fit. As soon as I got inside my car, my legs started trembling and slowly began to show the brunt of the infamous accidental stunt. I tried to recreate the scene in my mind minus the embarrassment. I refused to accept the disgrace that was caused to me in front of someone I knew well. I refused to forgive myself for something that brought along a great deal of embarrassment.
When I was asked to recount my most embarrassing moment, I did not slip into deep contemplation for the lack of an embarrassing moment. In fact, I have been embarrassed more out of choice than out of compulsion. Do I wish to overlook my mistakes and forgive myself because I have no choice? No, since that would cause remorse every time I make a mistake. What I really wish to do is learn to accept myself more with every passing day to ensure that my mistakes lift off the facade of perfection that is wrapped around my mortality. Doing this would help me channel my inner mortal and make me happily forgive myself for all the times that I may have lapsed in the eyes of the world. And, not very late, I shall proudly show my pyramid of mistakes to all those that consider forgiving an act of the weak.
No comments:
Post a Comment